Shut In Puns

They fired all Naan essential staff.

The doctor arrives and after a quick inspection he calms the crowd:

“Don’t worry, he just got disco-nnected.”

Such wonton disregard for public health, I tell you.

He then started hyperventilating

Hopefully, their future robots and A.I. will be more PC.

"Canteens?" he asked.

"No, it doesn't matter what age," I replied.

She made me promise that when she died, I would plant her strawberries on her grave so that people could enjoy them when they visited. When she passed away I fulfilled my promise. She’s dead and berried.

Ok come in and shut the door

Brief background: stepdaughter is 20 years old and has always hated when I make puns/dadjokes

So my step daughter just came downstairs heading out for work and just as she's walking out the door I noticed she has only one shoe on.

Me: "Hey! You know you only have one shoe on, right?

Her: "yeah, the other one is in my car"

Me (visibly confused): "uh...ok"

Her: "you might say I'm a step ahead"

The door shuts, my jaw dropped.

I run to the door, open it,

"Was that a pun? did you just make a dad joke?!"

She replies only with a smirk.

I'm so proud.

RETIRED HUSBAND

After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to WalMart. Unfortunately, like most men; I found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally unfortunate, my wife is like most women - she loves to browse. Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter, from the local WalMart:

Dear Mrs. Harris:

Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion, in our store.

We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to, ban both of you from the store.

Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Harris, are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras:

1. June 15: He took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking.

2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

3. July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.

4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time and costing the company money. We don't have a Code 3.

5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway.

6. August 14: Moved a, 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.

7. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.

8. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMTs were called.

9. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.

10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.

11. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while, loudly humming the, 'Mission Impossible' theme.

12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his, 'Madonna Look' using different sizes of funnels.

13. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'

14. October 22: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed;

'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'

15. Took a bo

As the engine sputters and shuts down the woman driving the car steers toward a nearby driveway and honks the horn hoping to get the attention of a guy herding cattle in the distance. Sure enough within a minute the man has ridden his horse over to her. He dismounts and gives a happy “Hello! Sounds like you’re having some car trouble. Can I help at all?” The woman replies that she’s not sure what happened but that she would love some help. They pop the hood and the man says he thinks he can fix the problem but has to run back to his barn to get some tools. The cows have come to see what’s going on and as the farmer gets ready to leave he says “Don’t worry about your car. I’ll have it running in a few minutes. Just head over there to the shade of the tree by the fence. The cows are all friendly. Bessy there likes to have her ear rubbed, Albert likes to look at people, and Mare will just moo a grand ole tune.” All of it is true and within 20 minutes the woman is happily sitting in her car with the engine running better than before. “Thank you so much, you’re a life saver,” she says. The man smiles and lets out a big laugh before saying “I’m glad I could help. But I’m no life saver. I’m just a jolly rancher.”

I'm a teacher, and due to recent storms we've had a few short-lived blackouts.

Today in class the electricity was being fixed by the company and they had to shut the lights off for a few minutes.

Secretary (comes in the room): were there any problems with the lights off?

Me (I've got this, I'm ready!): No, we were delighted.

The secretary left, paused outside and then came back in with the worst glare possible. Yes!!!

Thank you guys, I was prepared.

Edit: Front page!!! Awesome! This is the highlight of my day! Keep your puns coming, I love them all (and I'm secretly practicing them for the proper opportunity).

Thank you so much /user/x9x9x9x9x9 for the gold! It made everything that much better.

Keep your puns coming you guys (especially teachers!).

Every year, the team was in the state championship game, and usually won it handily. Every able lad within a few hundred miles wanted to play football for Central Catholic Fighting Knights.

Those who were familiar with the program, knew that the true heart and soul of the Knights football program was Sister Mary Margaret, an aged nun who would, in full habit, get out on the practice field and work on routes with the receivers, give pointers to the quarterbacks on their stances and releases, but most of all, love them like the second mother that she became to all of the boys in that program.

One year, on the eve of the state championship game, some evil malefactors broke into the convent and kidnapped Sister Mary Margaret. Everyone was stunned by the news, but none more so than the Knights of Central Catholic. They were devastated at the loss of their mentor.

As you might guess, the state championship game didn't go very well. For the first time in the history of the football program, the Knights were shut out. The Spartans beat them 42-0.

The next day, the headline on the local sports section read:

No Offense, Nun Taken

My granddaughter was recently born, and she is, of course, perfection incarnate. However, the night she was born, I got my son.

We had left his girlfriend's hospital room where she was in labor (14 1/2 hours!) to get some coffee. As we did so, I gave him some fatherly advice.

Me: Son, you know how everyone acts like all babies are beautiful?

Him: Yeah.

Me: Well, you and I both know that it's not true. There are some ugly babies out there. Now, I am not saying yours is going to be, I am sure she's going to be fine, but just in case...

Him: Yes?

Me: You know those signs at some bathrooms that say "Baby Changing Station"? Just stick her in there, close the lid...

Him: OMG, Dad, shut the fuck up!

Me: <literally tapdancing away>

Once upon a time there were three little pigs, Pork Chop, Hambone, and Bacon.

The boys lived at home with their mother. One day their mother said, “I no longer have enough food to feed you boys, you need to go out on your own and find your fortunes.”

Not wanting to upset their mother they left the house together to seek their fortunes.

Several miles into their journey Bacon, the little pig everyone liked best, said, “Let’s build our houses here! This seems like a great place to start making our fortunes.”

Pork Chop and Hambone agreed. So they all began building their houses.

Pork Chop, the laziest of the bunch, decided to build his house out of straw, which he apparently stole from a nearby field. It was not a very sturdy building material, but Pork Chop didn’t care. All he wanted to do was play all day, and he didn’t want to spend too much time building.

Hambone was willing to work a bit harder and he decided to build his house out of sticks which he procured by de-limbing every tree within a 300 meter radius of their homestead.

Hambone and Pork Chop were happy. Now all they had to do was to play and sleep the rest of the day.

Now Bacon was a hard worker. He knew that his brothers had used bad materials and shoddy construction methods and he wanted to build the best house he could. He found several tons of bricks stacked in neatly ordered pallets in the forest which he decided to use for his building material. It took him several days, but when he was done Bacon had the best house on the homestead.

The next day a wolf, Scott Howard, happened upon the pig brothers and their new homestead. He spied the straw house and smelled Pork Chop inside and began to think to himself that Pork Chop would make a mighty fine meal, so Scott went and knocked on the door.

Scott said, “Little Pig! Little Pig! Let me in!”

Pork Chop replied, “No way José! Not by the hairs on my chinny chin chin!”

Scott, undeterred by the reply says, “Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your crappy straw house to the ground!”

Scott began to huff and puff. He was evidently having some sort of asthma attack, but after a few tugs from his handy dandy rescue inhaler, he was able to muster enough wind to blow Pork Chops straw house to the ground.

Pork Chop narrowly escaped Scott’s massive jaws. Scared, and now homeless, Pork Chop ran for the nearest shelter he could see. Hambone’s house.

Scott, undeterred, chased Pork Chop to his new hiding place. Scott was very pleas

When behind him he hears:

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

Walking faster, he looks back and makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street towards him.

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

Terrified, the man begins running home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.

FASTER

FASTER

BUMP...

BUMP...

BUMP...

He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, and slams it shut and locks it behind him.

However, the casket crashes through the door, with the lid of the casket clacking

Clapity-BUMP...

Clapity-BUMP...

Clapity-BUMP...

on his heels, the terrified man runs.

Rushing upstairs in the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.

With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door. Bumping and clapping towards him

A man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws the bottle of cough syrup at the casket and...

The coffin stops.

Two guys at the funny farm. One guy says, “We can get out of here.”

The other guy says, “We can?”

He says, “Yes.”

The other guy says, “How?”

The first guy says, “I’ve got a big flashlight. Tonight we’ll come out to the wall, I’ll throw the light up against the wall, and you climb up the beam.”

The guy says, “You really think I’m nuts, don’t you? I know what you’d do! I’d get halfway up, you’d shut it off!”

(Editor’s note: Batman fans will recognize this as the final joke in The Killing Joke).

http://red-skelton.info/articles/jokes/two-guys-at-the-funny-farm/

He wemt to his mum, who was doing work, and asked, "mum, whats the first letter of the alphabet?"

Mum: Shut up and go away!

Kid goes to his dad, who just got a perfect score in darts, and says: Dad, whats the second letter of the alphabet?

Dad: 180!!

Walks to older brother who was playing batman video games: whats the third letter of the alphabet?

Brother: na na na na na na na na BATMAN!

Walks up to younger brother playing with toys: whats the 4th letter of the alphabet?

Brother: driving my little red car.

Kid rolls up to school, ready to recite the first 4 letters of the alphabet.

Teacher: whats the first letter?

Kid: Shut up and go away!!

Teacher: HOW MANY HOURS OF DETENTION DO YOU WANT

Kid: 180!!

Teacher: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

Kid: na na na na na na na na BATMAN

Teacher: HOW DO YKU THINK YOULL GET AWAY WITH THIS?!?

Kid: Driving my little red car

I broke my nose in a really stupid horse-related accident in Montana.

Dad takes me to the local walk-in clinic. It's mostly empty, as it's around 7pm. As we're giving the insurance information and whatnot to the receptionist, Dad is busy doing that thing where he's texting without his cheaters so he's having to squint and hold the phone away and he's really not paying attention to some question the receptionist is asking...

So I whack him on the arm (with a towel held to my face) and say "Dad, pay attention."

Unblinking, he turns in my direction, without even looking directly at me, he mutters "Shut up, or I'll hit you again."

The receptionist was not pleased. He told the same joke to the doctor who stitched me up, and he laughed his ass off.

Actually, dad cracked so many jokes that the doctor kept having to pause while stitching up my nose. He took so long that the anesthetic wore off and I could definitely feel the last few stitches.

Dr: "Now sir, the stitches are going to cause your daughter's nose to swell quite a bit." Dad: "EVEN BIGGER!? That's amazing!"

Me: "Shut up Dad". Dad: (pinching his nose, speaking nasally) "Shut up Dad".

Unamused 18 year old daughter.

The truck driver comes to a stop. The woman in the car behind him gets out of her car and knocks on the truck driver's window:

"Excuse me sir, you are losing your load!"

The truck driver is confused and continues his path until the next stop. The woman knocks on his window again.

"Excuse me sir, you are losing your load!"

The truck driver is even more confused and continues to drive. At the next stop, the woman comes to knock again on his window.

"Excuse me sir, you are losing your load!"

The truck driver gets angry and says:

"Would you please shut up! I'm putting salt on the road!"

My mom was talking about how my dad wouldn't stop talking about her when they were dating just as he got up from the table to go to the bathroom

They brought it up because I just got my license.

Mom: "When your dad first got a car he had a girl who liked him inside first and he kept on going on and on and on about me. She found that annoying. Ask him who was the first person in his car! See if he'll lie about it!"

Me: "Dad who was the first person in your car? Mom wants to know."

Dad: "Me. Its not gonna drive its self"

Me: "Well hes not wrong mom."

Mom: "Shut up"

"Did I ever tell you about the asshole?"

"What?"

"Well, the asshole was at a meeting with all of the other body parts, and they were deciding who should be in charge of the whole body, right? So first, the brain says, 'C'mon, obviously I should be the boss. I do all of the decisions, thinking--why is this even a question?'

'Well, good luck doing all of the thinking if you can't see where you're going,' say the eyes. 'We should be in charge.'

'What good is it going to do seeing, if you can't get anywhere?' asked the legs.

'Well, without us, you'd have no oxygen,' said the lungs.

'Are you serious?' said the stomach. 'How are you supposed to process energy and do any of this stuff, without me??'

'Well, what about me?' piped up the asshole. 'I'm important too..'

'You?!?' laughed the other parts. 'Shut up, asshole!'

So the asshole went on strike.

A week and a half later, the brain couldn't think straight. The eyes couldn't focus, the legs were asleep from sitting on the pot, and the stomach was so jammed up full of crap that the lungs could barely breathe.

Finally, they all went to the asshole and said, 'Look, we're sorry, we're sorry!! Just come back to work, you can be in charge!'

...and that's why all bosses are assholes."

Miss ya, Pops.

So my wife and eldest daughter are in the dining room and I’m in the kitchen. They are talking about parking a car at school, and getting the ticket that allows this from the office. I step into the room:

Me: “You guys are talking about a ticket to park?”

Kid: “Yeah”

Me: “But I thought Paul McCartney said it was a ticket to ride...”

Wife: “Shut up dear”

I look at the kid and point to my wife:

“She don’t care.....”

I'm here today to tell you all a horrible story, so that none of you have to go through the same experience as my friend.

My friend, Hugh, is a very religious man, who is also involved in our community. 2 weeks ago, our local church burned down and Hugh believed it was his Christian duty to help them get back on their feet. Hugh allowed the friars of the church to set up a cart in his mall to sell their flowers. Every day, the friars came in at 7:00 in the morning with a bushel of beautiful flowers and began to work diligently to arrange them into bouquets. All was going well, the mall was generating more revenue and the church was making more money than they were by selling the flowers in front of the church on Sunday. Everyone was happy; until that first weekend.

Our town is kinda tourist-y, so we get some out-of-towners on the weekends. A gay couple came to the mall the first weekend that the friars had taken up shop (Typically, our town is pretty progressive, but the friars tended to be uber-conservative). The couple came over to the cart and admired the flowers; they tried to purchase a bouquet, but the friars refused to sell to them. The couple was outraged and went to see Hugh directly. They complained to him that the friars were being discriminatory, so Hugh promised to have a talk with the friars. When Hugh confronted the friars, they refused to sell to the couple on the grounds that “they were committing an atrocity in the eyes of the lord.” The couple stormed off and promised to boycott the cart.

This past weekend, the couple came back with a large group and a letter from the mayor, saying that the friars had to sell to them, regardless of sexual preference. The friars stood firm and refused to sell to them, so the group started a protest. They brought in signs and started chanting around the cart. The friars continued to sell their flowers and Hugh allowed them to remain, so eventually the protest began to boycott the mall, rather than just the cart.

By today, the mall had lost 50% of its normal weekend revenue. The group sent a letter to Hugh saying that they could forgive him if he shut down the flower cart within the week. Hugh was pretty broken up, but he had no choice. To maintain his livelihood, he would have to kick the friars out of his store. He talked with the friars this morning and revoked their previous agreement. The friars had their cart packed and left by 7:30, to huge cheers from the community. The mall has been pretty norm

When Harry Met Salad

What About Ke-Bob

Cumin to America

Weekend at Bearneaise II

Steakin I, II, & III

A Few Good Salmon

You’ve Got Kale

Shawshank Re-Dim Sum

Romancing the Scone

An Éclair to Remember

Roman Hollandaise

Glazed and Confused

Bill & Ted’s Eggcellent Adventure

The Evil Bread

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang Shrimp

Fondue the Right Thing

Ribeyes Wide Shut

Mignons

Plante of the Grapes

Spider Manchu

Sushis All That

A Wok to Remember

Marsala-la Land

Apocalypse Cow

Die Chard

Die Chard with a Vinaigrette

Hogan’s Gyros

The Sand Latkes

A League of their Macaroni

Revenge of the Curds

Rush S’More

Braising Arizona

Demolition Ham

10 Things I hate About Ewe

Saladin

Oliver and Com-penne

Dirty Rotten Chanterelles

Sex and the Satay

The Truth About Cats & Hotdogs

Morella Enchanted

Provolone Together

Clear and Pheasant Danger

The Big Chili

Lémon: The Professional

Ava-Tartare

Hocous Pocous

High Fi-Deli Meat

Madagascargot

The Fifth Elementos

Muensters Inc.

There’s Something About Rosemary

I Am Ham

Quiche Lorraine Man

Barley & Me

Lentil Giants

Peggy Soufflé Got Married

Face Stroganoff

Con Gruyére

Fast Times at Porridgemont High

Bok Choys in the Hood

Papillonion

Requinoa for a Dream

Serial Cardamom

So we've been driving for about 30 minutes down state route 1 and talking has died down a bit. We're just listening to some oldies on the radio when my dad says, "Flo Rida must be pretty popular down here. I keep seeing his name everywhere." I replied, "really? I haven't seen it anywhere..... Ugh Shut up dad."

Edit: Key West is the most southern part of the state of Florida, USA. Flo Rida is a rapper. Flo Rida is really popular in Florida. My dad saw Flo Rida a lot during our drive in Florida. If you don't get it yet, leave /r/dadjokes

Edit 2 because people keep struggling. If this doesn't help you understand the joke you're lost.
Flo Rida
Flo rida
Florida

My dad is a police officer and I was on a ride-along with him. He and his partner arrested a guy for shoplifting. As the perp, whose name is "Unique," is sitting in the back of the car, my dad walks up, looks at me smiling, and says to the suspect "how do you catch a unique criminal? Unique up on em!" He and his partner laughed and high-fived, then just shut the door.

So, I realize this isn't entirely in the spirit of dad jokes, but I think you all will get a groan or three in the end...

Basically, my dad is the epitome of /r/dadjokes. He is a walking talking dadjoke. So, it was quite the shock to our family when we recently found out that he has stage 4 Cholangiocarcinoma (the Bad Luck Brian of cancers.) and doesn't have much longer to live. Anyhow, his favorite image on the internet is of a dead deer on the side of the road with a "Get well soon" balloon tied to its leg. It cracks him up. Tickles him pink in fact...so, being the morbid family we are, that lead to this...

http://imgur.com/h2cCZQq

He might be dying, but I still call him dad, and he is still quick with a joke. As you can see his sense of humor hasn't gone anywhere. Our family's sense of humor is what gets us all through. I believe my favorite bad joke through all of this was his buddy who said, "Frank, that is the worst spray tan I've ever seen in my life." (You see, the cancer is shutting down his liver and he appears yellow from jaundice.)

I'm not looking for any sympathy here, dad's die all the time. That's a tough fact of life. I just wanted to spread a fine dadjoke.

Thanks for reading.

Dad and I were talking about something and it was getting fired up. In my moment of complete belief that I was going to destroy him I say. 'You know what?'

Dad : 'No i don't I haven't met him'

Killed two birds with one stone. Slipped a dad joke and told me to shut up in one sentence.

... but he was having trouble with the fuel pump. Every time the pressure dropped, it would start getting clogged and would shut down.

Eventually he had inspiration, and set things up to work in parallel: now if one intake started having trouble, the rest would still keep it running smoothly.

Lesson learned, don't put all your ebbs in one gasket

Okay so I get off at 4:00 and I didn't waste any time leaving the office. Shut down my computer, grabbed my keys, and I was on the road by 4:05. It had been a pretty crazy day and I was ready to get home.

As I'm driving home I notice I'm running on Empty. I probably could have made it home but I was really craving a Coca Cola so I decide to stop at the nearest gas station.

Anyways I'm filling my tank I see an old lady a few gas pumps away putting gas in her old beat up station wagon but didn't really think anything of it and just continued to enjoy my icey cold Coca Cola.

Next thing I know I see this old lady holding the gas pump nozzle spewing gas everywhere. I guess she had taken the nozzle out of the vehicle w out disengaging the automatic trigger or whatever but it went EVERYWHERE. Her car, her arms, the ground, all over the place and by the time she got that thing to stop spraying there was at least a gallon of gas everywhere.

So I immediately run over to see if she's okay and she smells like straight up gas. I gave her napkins to dry off her hands and to clean what gas was spilled on the car. She said she was okay and thanked me for my help so I leave and head home.

So now I'm a few blocks from home, driving over the last hill right before my next turn and all of a sudden, almost out of nowhere, she comes flyin past me in that same old beat up station wagon with, I shit you not, her arm CAUGHT ON FIRE. And as if that's not bad enough there are two cops right behind her in hot pursuit. So while I'm freaking out trying to pull over to the side she zooms past so fast I barely catch a glimpse of her frantically flailing her arm out the window as they all go over the hill.

At that point couldn't believe what I was seeing it was just too crazy. So I quickly get back on the road and make my way over the hill and I spot her. She's pulled over in the emergency lane. I see the same old lady being handcuffed and put in the back of the squad car.

Yeah turns out she was arrested for waiving a fire arm in public.

¯_(ツ)_/¯

There is this ding to tell me my keys are in the ignition still. I shut the door and the ding stops. But I turn on the car and it starts dinging again for my seatbelt notice.

Man, if it's not one ding it's another.

For all of my life, my brain has played a soundtrack. At all times, in all places, I hear music going through my head, from the moment I awaken in the morning until I go to sleep at night. I can only shut it off by listening to other music, watching a movie, etc. but it soon starts up again once the outside source of stimulus is removed.

Yesterday I was travelling. When I visited the restroom prior to boarding my flight, the the music in my head suddenly switched tracks from "I've Been Everywhere Man" (that got really old after the first hour. Oy!) to "Africa" by Toto. "That's odd", I thought to myself, "the music in my head usually doesn't switch tracks unless something has changed around me." I finished my business, cleaned up, stood up, and turned around to flush.

Then I saw it. There, emblazoned on the porcelain, was the word "TOTO". The manufacturer of the toilet. "Nice job, brain, funny, hah-hah," I thought to myself.

The song in my head came to an abrupt halt. Silence, for just one moment. Blessed silence. Rare for me. Then I realized. My brain was giving me time to digest the previous joke. Waiting for me to think I'd arrived at the punch line. Pausing for a beat before it delivered the next one. "Africa" started over again, telling me exactly why the DJ deciding songs in my head had picked this exact moment, this exquisite situation, this exact set of circumstances to deliver the internal Dad Joke of the year:

"Doodoo doo-doo doodoo do dooooooooo...."

I have written this book to sweep away all misunderstandings about the crafty art of punnery and to convince you that the pun is well worth celebrating.... After all, the pun is mightier than the sword, and these days you are much more likely to run into a pun than into a sword. [A pun is a witticism involving the playful use of a word in different senses, or of words which differ in meaning but sound alike.]

Scoffing at puns seems to be a conditioned reflex, and through the centuries a steady barrage of libel and slander has been aimed at the practice of punning. Nearly three hundred years ago John Dennis sneered, “A pun is the lowest form of wit,” a charge that has been butted and rebutted by a mighty line of pundits and punheads.

Henry Erskine, for example, has protested that if a pun is the lowest form of wit, “It is, therefore, the foundation of all wit.” Oscar Levant has added a tag line: “A pun is the lowest form of humor—when you don’t think of it first.” John Crosbie and Bob Davies have responded to Dennis with hot, cross puns: “...If someone complains that punning is the lowest form of humor you can tell them that poetry is verse.”

Samuel Johnson, the eighteenth century self-appointed custodian of the English language, once thundered, “To trifle with the vocabulary which is the vehicle of social intercourse is to tamper with the currency of human intelligence. He who would violate the sanctities of his mother tongue would invade the recesses of the national till without remorse... ”

Joseph Addison pronounced that the seeds of punning are in the minds of all men, and tho’ they may be subdued by reason, reflection, and good sense, they will be very apt to shoot up in the greatest genius, that which is not broken and cultivated by the rules of art.

Far from being invertebrate, the inveterate punster is a brave entertainer. He or she loves to create a three-ring circus of words: words clowning, words teetering on tightropes, words swinging from tent tops, words thrusting their head into the mouths of lions. Punnery can be highly entertaining, but it is always a risky business. The humor can fall on its face, it can lose its balance and plunge into the sawdust, or it can be decapitated by the snapping shut of jaws. While circus performers often receive laughter or applause for their efforts, punsters often draw an obligatory groan for theirs. But the fact that most people groan at, rather than laugh at, puns doesn’t mean that the punnery isn’t fu

I was watching Ant-Man yesterday and of course they play the "Please silence your phone" ad prior to the previews. Guy in front of me pulled out his cell phone, held it up to his face and said "Shut up phone!". I laughed, others groaned.

We were cuddling in our bed watching some tv and just hanging out before we shut our eyes for bed. She had her head on my chest and leg across my legs and that's when I told her...

Me: "Babe, do you like cuddling?" Her: "Yes of course, why?" Me: "I guess I make a good... body pillow."

She instantly pushed me away while groaning, totally worth it.

She rolled up some toilet paper and put it in her nose. Me: Is it that time of the month already? Her:...? Me: Because of the tampon. Her: (rolls eyes) Me: Guess that's nose sex for a weak, eh? Her: Oh shut up!

Scene: down pouring and John is sitting in his destroyed house completely dry

Bf:why is he not wet? There is no roof!

Me: because he wicks the water away stares at bf with huge smile on my face

Bf: shut the fuck up

I picked up a ruler, put it against my wife's chest, & asked "How much longer are we gonna be in here?"

The daughter loved it! My wife said "Haha. Shut up."

Epilogue: We were in there at least another 162ft.

OK, this just happened: bumped head, bag of frozen veggies, < enter dad stage left (the doorway, stage right is a window, and it's shut).>

Me: what happened little man? Him: <he explains> Me: So... mummy peed on your head? <Wife smirks condescendingly> Him: what?

Now, this is what I need help with, it's not the first time this has happened either, the wife goes on for a minute or so explaining how "wee" is sometimes called "pee" and how I'm deliberately misunderstanding him for comic effect.

If this wasn't bad enough he then howls with laughter for about five minutes getting me to repeat what I said again and again, all the while jumping around in the bed and generally totally cured by my comedic genius.

This isn't the way it's meant to be, is it? Can I enrol in a local parenting class, or should I send my wife to couples therapy?

Every able lad within a few hundred miles wanted to play football for Central Catholic Fighting Knights.

Those who were familiar with the program, knew that the true heart and soul of the Knights football program was Sister Mary Margaret, an aged nun who would, in full habit, get out on the practice field and work on routes with the receivers, give pointers to the quarterbacks on their stances and releases, but most of all, love them like the second mother that she became to all of the boys in that program.

One year, on the eve of the state championship game, some evil malefactors broke into the convent and kidnapped Sister Mary Margaret. Everyone was stunned by the news, but none more so than the Knights of Central Catholic. They were devastated at the loss of their mentor.

As you might guess, the state championship game didn't go very well. For the first time in the history of the football program, the Knights were shut out. The Spartans beat them 42-0.

The next day, the headline on the local sports section read:

No Offense, Nun Taken

A man is walking home alone one foggy evening, when behind him he faintly hears:

thump...

thump...

thump...

Senses tingling, he begins walking faster only to look back and make out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street towards him.

THUMP...

THUMP...

THUMP...

Terrified, the man begins running home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.

FASTER

FASTER

THUMP...

THUMP...

THUMP...

He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, slams it shut and locks it behind him.

However, the casket crashes through the door, and with the lid of the casket clacking on his heels, the terrified man runs.

Clappity-THUMP...

Clappity-THUMP...

Clappity-THUMP...

Rushing upstairs to the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.

With a loud CRASH! the casket breaks down the door. Thumping and clapping towards him, the man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws it at the casket and...

The coffin stops.